Chapter Text
When Jihoon was a child and a certified school hater, his biggest enemy was the morning alarm. Not that anyone really likes them but he was a passionate opposer of any kind of alarm that existed on the planet. Traditional clocks, clock radios, phone alarms – it didn’t matter. He hated everything that interrupted his much needed rest after an exhausting battle with his SoloQ demons.
His mother, tired of being a human alarm clock herself (after at some point Jihoon became immune to all types of alarms), had suggested going to bed earlier. But that was an impossible solution. After all, Jihoon was going to become a pro gamer. Or so he had thought.
At twenty-five, Jihoon still hates alarms with all his guts. The only difference is that he wakes up at six in the morning not for school, but for work. His boring corporate job that involves a lot of suit-wearing and fake polite smiles and definitely no gaming. He likes to believe that in another universe he’s a successful pro player and not a corpo rat stuck in meetings all day.
It’s Monday and the alarm is ten times louder and a hundred times more aggravating than usual. It interrupts Jihoon’s oddly realistic dream about being on stage and lifting a trophy in front of a crowd that screams his name. Wangho, his university buddy, is there too, smiling at him when he kisses the cup. Then, a loud ringing pierces his ears and he comes back to reality. He isn’t a pro player and he definitely didn’t win the LCK. Not only that, but his team had also lost every single one of their Clash games the night before. He blames Wangho’s Shyvanna for that one.
“Fuck,” Jihoon grumbles, as he takes his arm outside of the warm comfort of his blankets to turn off the alarm. He reaches out blindly towards where his phone usually lies during the night, only to stretch it out in a weird way that sends a shock of pain to his shoulder.
“Fucking shit,” he groans again and presses firmly on the muscle to ease the pain. “I’m awake, can you shut the fuck up?”
The alarm keeps ringing and Jihoon finally opens his eyes.
A bowl of cereal later he’s out of the apartment. It’s early fall but the weather is already chilly while he waits at the bus stop. Gloves feel weird on his hands, so he resorts to blowing warm air at them to keep his fingers from freezing.
Luckily, the bus stops right outside of the office building, sparing him from long walks in the cold. Jihoon gets off the bus and checks the time only to find out he has seven minutes to get to the meeting room. Hurriedly, he walks over to the narrow door next to the revolving ones that have been out of order since last Thursday.
A loud bang gathers the attention of everyone around him, as his head slams against the glass. Jihoon stares at his reflection, contemplating turning around and never showing up to work again. His forehead starts throbbing and he slaps a hand over it to make it even worse.
“Jihoon-ssi?” A voice calls out behind him and the situation gets from ‘worse’ to ‘the worst’. “The revolving doors were fixed this weekend and the emergency one was locked again.”
Jihoon remembers to take his hand off his forehead before he turns around. A well-trained fake smile replaces the despair he had just seen in his reflection.
“Thanks for letting me know, Sanghyeok-ssi,” he says, struggling not to grumble through his teeth. “Shall we, then?”
He rushes to the revolving door first, refusing to allow his colleague to take another look at his face and what’s probably a bruise forming on his forehead. Disaster strikes again when the elevator doors open and there is no one inside, which makes no sense considering almost every single employee at Gen.1 starts at seven-thirty. This ridiculous anomaly means Jihoon is stuck in an elevator with his colleague for eighteen floors and with nothing better to do, his eyes keep involuntarily drifting back to him.
Sanghyeok’s back is as straight as a bowstring, as he stands quiet and unmoving in the opposite corner of the elevator. True to his routine, Jihoon tries to find at least one flaw in his colleague and is once again extremely upset when he ends up with none. Sanghyeok’s suit is ironed to perfection, his dress shoes are as shiny as ever, and even his leather briefcase, which he hasn’t changed since Jihoon first joined the company two years ago, is spotless.
Jihoon scoffs on the inside. Stupid Sanghyeok and his stupid flawlessness. The only thing that cheers Jihoon up when the inferiority complex strikes is the thought that his colleague’s perfect image at work probably means he’s extremely boring outside of it.
“Is something the matter?” Sanghyeok’s voice interrupts his petty monologue.
“Huh?” Jihoon answers dumbly, caught too off guard to find a better answer.
Sanghyeok turns to him and looks him in the eye. “I thought you meant to say something,” he replies calmly. “My apologies if I misunderstood.”
Despite the early hours, Jihoon still has enough active brain cells to realize that his scoff wasn’t so internal after all. Embarrassed, he looks away in search of a believable answer.
“I was just clearing my throat,” he mumbles. “The weather’s been getting colder these days.”
Sanghyeok seems satisfied with his bullshit answer, as he turns to the doors once more. “That’s true,” he replies. “So make sure to wear a scarf, Jihoon-ssi. That open-neck coat suits you well but it won’t protect your throat during the colder winter days.”
Jihoon stares at Sanghyeok’s reflection in the metal door, completely stunned and unable to figure out how to reply. The elevator dings and his colleague’s face disappears from his view, as the doors open.
“And take care of that forehead of yours,” Sanghyeok adds. “That collision with the glass door sounded quite painful.”
He steps out and leaves without sparing Jihoon another glance. Jihoon ends up being late to the meeting after the doors close while he’s too stunned to step out and the elevator is called back to the first floor.
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Most kids develop unrealistic dreams when they are little. Being an astronaut who roams through the vast universe or a famous singer who sells out huge stadiums doesn’t seem that impossible when you’re a child. As a kid, Jihoon wasn’t interested in getting on a space station or singing. What he enjoyed most was turning on his computer after a long day at school and filling the room with the sounds of his mouse clicks. He had heard from his classmates that there were people who played games as a profession and he was certain of one thing – he would join them one day and be the best of the best.
Dreams are usually fun until you hit a certain age when rationality starts taking over the delusions. When he was sixteen, Jihoon realized he wasn’t going to become a pro player. Instead, he graduated high school, then university and then applied for his first job. His gaming skills might have been average but at least Gen.1 found enough potential in him to offer him a spot in the Marketing team. Even if working a nine-to-five isn’t Jihoon’s dream, he likes to believe that he will have the freedom to find his own way once the right time comes.
He still remembers how clammy his hands were on his first day, as his team leader at that time was almost pushing him to the meeting room, a firm hand on his shoulder. His suit was brand new and he had gone to bed late the previous night after a long battle with the iron. He had wished his team leader’s sweaty hand would stop messing up the fabric he’d spent so long smoothing out.
“Introductory meetings are mandatory for our new joiners,” Yang Dae-in had insisted, as he changed his tactic and started pulling Jihoon, instead of pushing him. “It’s important that you meet the people who you will be working with from now on.”
Jihoon knew that was true. However, hearing it from Yang Dae-in had pissed him off. Even the most objective truth sounded like complete bullshit when it came out of the team leader’s mouth.
The meeting room was already occupied by a couple of people, most of them seated next to or across each other at the table. They had all turned to Jihoon when the door opened but he hadn’t spared them a glance. Instead, his eyes had found a man, sitting on the other corner of the table. His posture had been perfect, his eyes closed as if he was asleep.
When it comes to Sanghyeok, Jihoon is used to feeling a rollercoaster of emotions. When he first joined the company, it was mostly awe. He was in awe because Sanghyeok was so smart, so calm and so professional. He was someone Jihoon wanted to be.
Now it’s jealousy. He is jealous because Sanghyeok is so smart, so calm and so professional. He is someone Jihoon will never be.